Miriam shook her head. “There is no debt, but if there were, would it not be more than repaid when thou and thy flock are restored to those who need both? And thou wilt tell my mother that I have kept the Lord alway before my face, even as she bade me promise.”
The voice faltered, and Benjamin put an arm about her. “Be of good courage, little maid. Thinkest thou Isaac will let thee weep for thy kindred? Nay, but he will speak to his master and he to thy mistress, and when we start for Israel in the spring thou shalt go also. Rest thou in hope.”
Miriam tried to smile and, saddened that the storm should have rendered her errand futile, but rejoicing in the confidence it had inspired, she lingered yet another day and took her departure. Almost at the last moment Rachel drew her aside for a whispered word.
“Put no confidence in this Lemuel who hath charge of thy party. Not now can I explain, but I fear for thee if thou dost trust him.”
Miriam nodded. “Isaac told me the same and wished greatly that I wait until he should be well enough to bring me himself or spare his servant, but the tidings seemed too joyful to delay.”
Milcah, Miriam’s perpetual shadow, put in a word: “And so my brother besought his master that I be allowed to come with the maiden, and our mistress, who can deny her nothing, hastened the plans lest disappointment befall her.”
At a little distance Lemuel was talking confidentially with a fellow soldier. “Pleased am I that our errand hath ended well,” he was saying.
“Yea,” rejoined the other with a sneering smile, “pleased if it please the maid and, better still, pleased if it please her master and mistress, for very dear unto them is Miriam since Naaman’s healing. So shall thine own schemes be furthered.”
Lemuel frowned. “My creditors agreed to wait.”
“And the gods, whom thou art always boasting have thee in their favor, have given thee this opportunity. How much thinkest thou is the treasure which hath been given to the maid?”